


He knows, who gave that love sublime

by shetlandowl



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Mush, Just a guy who realized he could do better without blowing stuff up, M/M, Meet-Cute, Steve Rogers is Not Captain America, Tony Stark is Tony Stark sans Iron Man
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 02:15:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shetlandowl/pseuds/shetlandowl
Summary: Don't call him sentimental, but Tony does enjoy speaking at the MIT graduation ceremony for the bright young spirits destined to change the world. But sometimes, when those bright young spirits give chase, even the great Tony Stark knows it's time to fold 'em and run.Lucky for him, this time someone important was waiting to be found.





	He knows, who gave that love sublime

**Author's Note:**

> This is a short & sweet little story for the lovely (and wonderfully talented!) [Kate](http://illustratekate.tumblr.com)! Thank you so much for the coffees (or, more accurately, chai tea in steamed almond milk with some honey - that's my everything! =D) 
> 
> Title is from William Wordsworth's poem, [Fidelity](https://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fidelity-5/).  
> Excerpt is, of course, from Carmon and Knizhnik's terrific [Notorious RBG: The Life and Times of Ruth Bader Ginsburg](https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25422234-notorious-rbg). (The book is great, and so is the audiobook!)
> 
>  **Warning** : if you're not a fan of RBG, or are not pro-choice on abortion, this may not be the fic for you. Not beta'd, all mistakes are mine!

“Happy, stop the car.”

The stretch car slid to a halt with a squeal of tires and a chorus of honking cars behind them. Before Happy could twist in his seat or even get a question out, Tony had shuffled to the left and climbed out of the car. 

“Look, I’m starving,” he explained, and sure enough, they were illegally parked outside of the Shake Shack. “Circle the block, I’ll call you when I’m out.”

“What—boss, you sure it’s safe?”

Tony gave him a wry look over his sunglasses. “Tell you what,” he said when Happy didn’t quite read between the lines. “If those college students abandon graduation and run all the way here from MIT just to track me down… you’ll be the first to know.”

“They’re college students, sir,” Happy pointed out, far more skeptical. “They’d do more for less.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Tony pushed his shades back into place and skipped up the stairs to the Shake Shack. It had already been a long day, and he deserved a damn milkshake. 

The speech itself had been easy. He’d never admit it, but even after all these years, being a part of the commencement at his alma mater still filled him with awe. Scandals and mistakes aside, those kids looked at him like he meant something larger than life. 

In their honor, he made a point to underscore the same message in every graduation speech he made: perseverance above all else, despite setbacks and outright failure, was the key to success. Dedication to the process should guide one’s compass, not the results. 

_Share your passion, that fire that moves you, that makes you question the world around you and want to reach out to be a part of something bigger; something greater. There is no other heart quite like yours, so share it, even if it’s broken, even if it is still growing. Even if it lacks faith. Show us what a future could be when your voice is heard. We will all be richer for it._

He ended up signing twelve receipts and walking out of Shake Shack with a free meal. Time to wander down the street and eat his food in peace before calling Happy. 

Or, so he thought. 

“ **THERE HE IS!** ”

The shrill scream rang through the air like a lovesick bullhorn. Tony turned, slowly and calmly, because after all, he was Tony Stark. Tony Stark laughed in the face of danger. 

He did not, however, laugh in the face of twenty-something twenty-somethings. 

Like a bat out of hell, he ditched his food and bolted across the street. He wove past pedestrians and strollers alike, then turned down an alley until the large, imposing doors to the city library came into view. 

_Perfect_.

Tony swept in like the cool customer he was, and he didn’t stop moving until he found the relative safety of the non-fiction section on the second floor. He grabbed a book off a display and pretended to leaf through it to blend in. 

“Do me a favor, Jarvis,” he murmured while skimming the remarkably eye-catching page designs. “Check security and tell me if those girls are in the building.”

Seconds later the darkened screen of his phone lit up with the fuzzy but unmistakable footage of two dozen excitable young women power walking through the library. They were splitting up to look for him. It wouldn’t be long before they caught up to him. 

“Call Happy,” he told Jarvis quietly as he watched the girls walking through the library, inevitably closing the distance between them. 

“Happy is en route to your location,” Jarvis replied almost immediately, its volume appropriately modulated to library whispering. “ETA 36 minutes due to unexpected traffic.” 

With a frown and a last glance at the security footage, Tony realized he needed a place to hide. Somewhere nobody would think to look for him. 

He crept away as discretely as he could, slipping from one aisle to the next on quiet feet until finally he reached a closed door. Without thinking, he tried the handle, and let himself in. 

Tony would have been grateful for anything: a supply closet, a meeting place for naughty librarians, or a holding cell for the dimwits who never pay their library fines. Instead, he found a man and [his dog](http://www.dogbreedslist.info/uploads/allimg/dog-pictures/Irish-Terrier-1.jpg) hanging out in a small, but colorful, brightly lit room. The scattered furniture were all clearly designed for young children of various ages and sizes. All of them made Tony feel uncomfortably tall. 

“Hey!” the man greeted him cheerfully, as if he wasn’t as surprise to see Tony as he looked. He patted his curious terrier and waved Tony over. “Seamus and I are really happy to see you, come in. Did you sign in at the desk?”

“Yeah,” Tony lied, because the truth would probably end their conversation, and Tony would take that beautiful smile (or those glorious biceps) over two dozen overzealous teenagers any day. 

“I’m Steve,” the handsome stranger said, gesturing for Tony to sit down. “This is Seamus.”

“Tony,” Tony said quietly, eyeing the little terrier that only barely seemed to restrain himself from bouncing with glee. Steve, with his blue eyes, pearly white teeth, and unreal wingspan seemed just as happy to see him. 

“You know,” he said, “I was afraid nobody would show up. Seamus always looks a little glum when that happens, you’re really going to make his day. He likes being pet, too, if you like, but he’s happy just listening to you reading for him if you prefer that. What book did you bring to share with him?” he asked then, clearly eyeing the book Tony had grabbed out of the display earlier.

“The Notorious RBG,” Tony read off the cover with a pleasantly surprised smile. “Seriously? You come here for people to read to your dog?”

“Is it your first time?” Steve wondered after a hesitant pause. “We come here so anyone struggling with reading can practice. Seamus listens, and he doesn’t judge. He won’t get impatient or upset if you need to go slow. Usually it’s twenty or thirty minutes at a time, but we can finish the hour if you like, I don’t think anyone else is waiting.”

“Alright, sure,” Tony said with a smile. Why not? Who would look for him in the children’s room, and he needed some way to pass thirty minutes. When had a life decision been as easy as puppy therapy or no puppy therapy? Or was it an adult dog? He looked at the dog more curiously, then reached out to pet its head. 

“How old is he?” Tony wondered when Seamus pushed his little head into Tony’s hand and wriggled in delight. 

“Six, I think,” Steve said with a smile, and when Seamus rolled over for belly rubs, Steve rubbed his big hand down his dog’s flanks with notable pride. “The people who dropped him off at the shelter said he’d been this old woman’s support dog, but she’d had a stroke and had to be moved into a home that didn’t allow dogs. Her family couldn’t keep him. So, when I got him two years ago, we started doing this. The whole service role he was trained to do, you know?”

“Well, Seamus,” Tony told the dog and opened to a random page, “let me tell you about one of the most badass women in our country. So, six weeks after the Struck case hit a wall, the Supreme Court handed down its twin decisions in _Roe_ and _Doe_. Seven justices declared that the constitutional right to privacy ‘is broad enough to encompass a woman’s decision whether or not to terminate her pregnancy,’ and struck down all fifty states’ abortion laws. In the years that followed, RBG made no bones about her dislike of Justice Harry Blackmun’s opinion in the case. Now, I know what you’re thinking,” he murmured then to the little dog that had settled its chin on Tony’s knee to listen. “RBG, against abortion rights? But, here, if you’ll listen, we get to that: If abortion was a private choice, RBG pointed out, would public insurance have to pay for it like any other medical procedure? No, said the Supreme Court seven years after _Roe_ , when it upheld a ban on federal funding for abortion. The burden of ‘privacy’ fell on poor women’s shoulders.”

“She pointed out how not all women have dutiful husbands supporting them, and how women were the only people punished for the consequences of sex. And then, here: General Electric, a company that had once made all women quit upon marrying, for excluding pregnancy coverage on its employee plan. GE’s lawyer told the Supreme Court with a straight face that, after all, women didn’t have to be pregnant. If they wanted to work, GE’s attorney suggested, women now had legal access to what he called ‘an in-and-out noon-hour treatment.’ He meant abortion. Astonishingly, a majority of the Supreme Court agreed. Rehnquist wrote for the majority that pregnancy was special, because unlike race or gender itself, it was often ‘voluntarily undertaken and desired.’”

In the momentary pause when Tony turned the page, the silence was filled with a quiet huff of a snore. Surprised, Tony looked down to find Seamus had closed his eyes, and was snoring shamelessly. 

“Oh,” Steve whispered quietly, his cheeks coloring in his embarrassment. Tony felt his heart take an ill-advised tumble as he witnessed this man push the frail boundary between _hot as sin_ and _sinfully adorable._

“I’ve never seen him fall asleep on a stranger before,” Steve said softly, clearly not wanting to wake his dog. 

“Maybe he thinks it’s boring,” Tony half-joked, but Steve wouldn’t let it slide. 

“If anything, he’s comforted she’s there and she won’t let anyone push her around,” Steve told him. “I didn’t even know, about Blackmun. I’ve always thought of him as a good guy in all this.”

Tony, who knew many things but would have been hard-pressed to ever identify Blackmun at all, couldn’t help but look impressed. “You in politics or something?”

Steve smiled and shook his head. “Veterinarian, actually,” he said with a smile. “But after I learned about Mary Ellen McCormack and the SPCA, I got curious about law, so I ended up with a minor in government.”

“So,” Tony drawled quietly, glancing at the sleepy little dog before looking back at Steve. “You know who I am?”

“You mean, do I know enough about you to know you’re a confident reader who doesn’t need a dog to calm your nerves?” Steve asked with a mischievous little smile. 

Tony could feel his face warming. Whether Steve noticed or not, the devious edge in Steve’s expression faded into a genuine smile, and with a quiet confidence that seemed to come so naturally, Steve said, “Even billionaires could use puppy therapy, Tony.” 

Seamus made a particularly loud, pig-like snore, and kept sleeping without a care in the world. Tony watched the little dog with a big smile, then looked up to find Steve pretending not to watch them both. 

“You’re not wrong,” Tony said quietly, keeping his voice low and his tone gentle so the dog wouldn’t notice a change, “but I’m pretty sure I’ll need your number for that.”

“That’s all?” Steve asked with feigned innocence. “I’ll see what I can do.”

*** 

Two weeks went by, and Tony only occasionally remembered the unexpected adventure in the library. 

Occasionally, every day. 

But Pepper had promised him the phone call went well. She wouldn’t say how well, or share important details, like whether Steve asked about him, or said anything about him, or in any way sounded happy, sad, or love-sick over the phone. 

As if summoned by his obtuse sulking parade, Pepper marched into his office and dropped a small stack of important files on Tony’s desk. 

“I have about fifteen different things that need your immediate attention in the next twelve hours, but I can’t even stand to look at you right now,” she told him. “Fix your tie. Happy is waiting for you downstairs to take you to lunch. Get some fresh air, Tony, some sunlight. Drink some _water_ ,” she added, setting a bottle of water down in front of him. 

“You’re not the boss of me,” Tony groused, but he eyed that water bottle, because if he thought about anything besides the fact that Steve hadn’t mentioned him, or asked about him, or even called him, he’d probably realize he was kind of thirsty. 

Ha, the irony. 

“No, I’m not, but if you can’t focus, you’re not the boss of anyone either. So get up, Tony, eat lunch. Be back in two hours.”

That was usually when she would march back out of the office, but this time, she stood where she was, watching him expectantly. Tony could probably have continued sitting in his chair for some time just to piss her off, but he was pretty sure that if there was anyone more stubborn on the planet than he, it was _she_. 

With a huff of frustration and a few choice words, Tony snatched up the water bottle and sauntered out of his own office. His private elevator took him all the way down to the lobby, and he stepped out into the lobby that he had had a big hand in designing for his tower. The tower was his baby, and he preened a little every time he saw people hanging out in the seating areas by the small cafe, the little alcove for puppy therapy, and the little indoor garden surrounded by tall windows where visitors with children would often spend some time feeding turtles or counting fish. 

Tony was almost out the door when all that he had seen caught up with him. Slowly, he retraced his steps, and sure enough, there was Steve. In an alcove typically reserved for families with big strollers, blankets and big, firm cushions had been laid out for Steve and Seamus to treat visitors and staff alike. 

After all, it wasn’t only billionaires who could use a break from day to day stress. 

A young receptionist was currently cuddling a lapful of Seamus and, by the looks of it, he was venting his day’s frustrations on the little dog. Seamus couldn’t have been happier. Steve’s whole expression warmed with a smile when he noticed Tony approaching through the scattered crowd. 

“Tony, I didn’t think you’d make it,” Steve said as Tony came to stand beside him. “It’s good to see you again.”

Tony waggled his eyebrows, but it was gone as quickly as it happened, hidden behind a small but sincere smile. “Any chance you’re wrapping up soon?”

Steve made a point to glance at the wall clock that doubled as a sculpture before answering. “Our sessions up in a few minutes; Francis has had a tough day, though, so I thought we’d wait for him to finish telling Seamus all about it.”

“Right, of course. Sure. You know, Pepper told me you couldn’t stop talking about me on the phone. She said you were _smitten_ ,” he told Steve with an aloof flare, apropos of nothing, and Steve burst out laughing in his face. Tony’s unimpressed facade nearly slipped, but he managed to turn his expression into something distant and smug when he asked, “Did you really cry?”

Steve snickered and shook his head slowly. “Don't you wish? In fact,” he gladly pointed out, “Ms. Potts was happy to vent about how _you_ have been dragging your feet since we met—”

“That’s slander—libel. _Lies._ ”

“But you still found the time to sponsor a literacy program for inner-city kids in Boston who read below their grade-level—”

“Uh, no. First mistake: that was the Maria Stark Foundation, not me—”

“Oh, really? That wasn’t you?” Steve asked in blatant disbelief, because he wasn’t born yesterday. “That’s a shame. I was so touched, I came all the way out here hoping to ask you to dinner to thank—”

“Yes.”

They blinked at each other in a quiet surprise. Their little dance could have easily continued for another five to ten minutes, but Tony had caught them both unawares with his easy agreement. 

“Yes,” Tony said again, more calmly and with more surety, and Steve smiled at him like that one word was everything he had wanted to hear. “Dinner,” Tony added, because his skin just itched in the silence between them. “Let’s do it. Now, today.”

Steve couldn’t stop smiling even as he laughed and said, “Tony, it’s only 1pm.”

“So?”

“What about a compromise?” Steve suggested mildly. “Seamus and I have plans this afternoon. Let me take you to dinner tonight. We have a charity run in the morning, and we could use some help eating for the race.”

“Counter offer,” Tony replied immediately, pinning Steve with a serious look as he said, “I take _you_ to dinner tonight, and you let me read to Seamus again before you head back to Boston.”

Steve hummed quietly as he pretended to think it over. “I think I can live with that.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you ever feel like a Stony chat, [I'm on Tumblr (as shetlandowl)](http://shetlandowl.tumblr.com/) more often than I should be.


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